Walter: A Monologue by Beth Allison

Out with the old and in with the new; that’s what I always say. Why “make do and mend” when there are so many other options out there? Upgrades and advancements, ready and ripe for the taking: bigger, bolder, better; nipped, tucked, smoothed.

 

I pull out the list, unfolding its four identical squares. Dates spanning twenty years jump out from the diagram until the rainbow of arrows reveal the most recent: today’s numbers heading the ruled line towards my newest investment. Aahhh, that’s right. Big day, today.

 

There she is. Home again, shoes tapping on the marbled floor. New shoes, of course. New floor, come to that, fitted just last week by London’s finest labourers. Only the best; that’s what I always say.

‘I’m back.’

 

The light catches her face as she rounds the corner, approaches, my diagram brought to life. Surgical wrappings cover it, but I can see the product: front upturned slightly, creases smoothed out, blemishing freckles scrubbed clean off – fantastic. That familiar grin tugs at my lips – satisfied.

 

‘Perfect,’ I say, taking a step forwards. ‘Wouldn’t change a thing.’

 

Taking a step back, her knowing smile crinkles my purchase.

 

‘That’s what you always say.’